


Us Day

by JamesSunderlandsPillow



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesSunderlandsPillow/pseuds/JamesSunderlandsPillow
Summary: Lynn takes Lincoln to the park to teach her favorite brother all about America’s favorite pastime. (I do not own The Loud House).





	Us Day

It’s a seemingly ordinary Saturday afternoon in Royal Woods. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, the scene is set for a wonderful, fun filled day for all of the youths of the town. Some kids will stay inside and waste the opportunity to bask in the daylight playing video games or reading comic books instead, and while Lincoln Loud would normally be one of those kids, today he has better plans. Plans that were orchestrated by a certain someone he could always trust to bring him a fun time. His older sister, Lynn Loud Jr.

 _“You’ll have so much fun! I promise!”_ she told him the day before. _“Just you, me, and a special surprise that I know you’ll love!”_

He’s an eleven year old boy. Of course he loves surprises. And while playing Dota 2 or reading some of the Ace Savvy Heroverse could make for a rewarding experience, it easily dulls in comparison to the feeling of sunshine radiating on his fair skin, cool wind breezing through his white hair, and spending time with one of his absolute favorite people on the face of God's green Earth.

“Ahh, isn’t this nice?” he thinks aloud as he walks side by side with his companion for their afternoon outing. “I love Saturdays.”

“You said it, Stinkoln,” the auburn haired girl tells him as she stretches her arms. “And you’re going to love this one even more with what I have planned for you,” she adds with a loving little nudge of the elbow to his rib.

He would normally just take the jab and rub it off, but today he feels confident. Like Billy Batson with the power to become Shazam. So he nudges her right back, not too hard, not too soft.

“Ow! Hey!” she complains with a smile, rubbing the tender spot.

“Don’t make me kick your butt before we even get there,” Lincoln haughtily teases back, earning him a guffaw from his immediately elder sister.

“Oh, you’ll kick _my_ butt?” she tells him, wearing the arrogance that comes with knowing she could easily stomp him into the dirt if she wanted to. Not that she would… Unless he deserved it…

“Alright, alright,” Lincoln concedes, happy to take the pin for her. After all, it’s in good fun. He knows she loves him, she knows he loves her. That’s why it makes it so easy to just have a laugh and shake it off. They have that type of rapport with each other, the type real friends should have. They’re a nice way to make things all well and good, all fun and wholesome. Even if he has no clue where he’s following her to. “So, uh, I know this is supposed to be a surprise, but where exactly are we going? I don’t have any money…”

“Relax, Cotton Top. We don’t need money where we’re going,” she tells him, leaving it at that, offering him no clarity to show him what she means. Which is fine, he can be patient. He trusts her to know that whatever she has in mind, it has to be good.

But the curiosity, man… What could it be? Does she have an Ace Savvy LARPing campaign ready? Is she going to get him some free lunch at the Burpin’ Burger? Did she call up Francisco for a Best Friends’ Day? He can hardly contain his enthusiasm, but he does his very best to play it cool and stay collected, like one of those super manly sports guys Lynn looks up to.

Eventually, they come to Ketchum Park, and while that eliminates the possibility of Burpin’ Burger, maybe ‘Cisco is waiting for them with a picnic basket and some character sheets? Still, he just tries to play it James Dean cool. “So, the park, eh?” he asks.

Lynn meets him with a smirk. “Yup. The park. I figured what I have planned for you wouldn’t work so great in our dinky ol’ backyard. And, well… If I’m being honest…” she trails off, her gaze averting him to instead look to the ground, her face getting a little pink. “I kind of didn’t want the fam interrupting us. I wanted this to be an _Us_ Day, ya know?”

Lincoln could return her seldom shared sentiment with a sophomoric riposte about how she’s not supposed to act girly, or how she really does care… But he doesn’t want to spoil the moment. He’d rather just appreciate it and let her see that. “Well, awesome. I like having you to myself,” he says, his face getting a little pink too.

She leaves it at that, saying nothing more as her pink cheeks become a shade of red. She does clear her throat though, finding a new pep in her step as she does a single little gallop to get just a step ahead. “Come on! We’re almost there!” she tells him, and then she just starts jogging along. “Better get you something to drink, slow poke! I’m not going easy on you today!”

He just contently shakes his head. “Never change, Lynn,” he says to himself, deciding to save his energy and walk the rest of the way behind her. It’s kind of nice to create some comfortable distance, actually. Her scent lingers in a way that offers him a chance to truly appreciate the fact that, while she doesn’t wear perfume like other girls, she’s fine with cheap deodorant and Lori’s habit of adding a little extra Tide to her jerseys. It’s a smell he’s come to cherish, just like so many other things about her. Her way of walking, her tendency to smile, her raspy laugh, things that maybe other people can’t appreciate the way he does.

Their loss though.

Her path leads them to the park’s batting cages, and he begins to form a better idea of just what kind of game she has in store for them. He doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but as they walk through the entry gates and make their way inside, he feels his heart begin to tremble with proverbial butterflies. There’s no way she’s planning what he thinks she’s planning. Today? Really?

Dang it, it becomes near impossible to not squeal as she gets her gym back from her personal locker, taking out a soft white ball and her worn out mitt. That, and the aluminum bat that leans in the corner just a few inches away, makes it almost certain that she’s surprising him with one of his fantasies.

“Lynn… Are we… Are you… Is this?” he stammers, feeling a sweat break as he clenches his fists to his chest with the giddiness of one of his six year old twin sisters.

Lynn just puts on her lucky cap, grabbing the bat and slinging it over her shoulder with a grin. “Yup. I’m gonna finally teach you how to play baseball.”

The boy is tempted to pinch himself to make sure this isn’t some sort of dream, or at least to keep himself from literally swooning. He’d only ever told Lynn one of his most personal secrets, that he had always felt like it was wrong he isn’t so athletic. He was too embarrassed to ask his Dad or Pop Pop, and as much as he loved Clyde and his dads, it just felt too scary to even bring up to them. He realized he wasn’t very tall, so basketball probably wasn’t his best choice. Football and soccer were cool and all, but he didn’t want to hurt himself. Plus, something just seemed cool about America’s pastime. He felt like the idea of carrying around a bat, hitting homerunners out of stadiums was the stuff they told in legends. Stuff they’d make lore about!

Lynn though? Something just felt right about approaching her. She likes to tease and bust balls every now and then, but when the chips are down, he knows she’ll be considerate. She’s displated it more than once, and she knows he’ll be there for her too. Like the time he taught her how to paint her nails!

So yeah, he gives in to his temptation, actually squealing as he rushes over to wrap Lynn in a hug. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh Lynn! I can’t believe it! I can’t believe you’re going to teach me how to finally play baseball!” he tells her, and then he feels himself tear up a little bit. “I think I could cry,” he admits with a single sniffle.

“Alright, pull yourself together. You’re embarrassing,” Lynn tells him as she playfully pushes him away. It makes her smile to see him so bubbly, but hey… Margo could show up or something. She’s still got a little rep to keep in mind.

Lincoln ebbs on his enthusiasm for a bit to catch his breath, but the shiitake eatin’ grin on his face doesn’t wane in the slightest. “Seriously Lynn, this is- wow. I can’t believe you.”

She just softly smiles, tilting her head to the side as she again tries to focus more on a cold, unforgiving floor and not his stupid, bright blue eyes. “Yeah, well, consider this me paying you back for being my soccer buddy the other day,” she tells him, skittishly rubbing the back of her neck.

Lincoln just coolly responds with “Go River Plate.”

Dang, that gets her right in the feels. So much so that she has to look to those stupidly wonderful blue eyes and wear her own big smile. “Aww, you remembered!” she playfully responds, exaggerating how much she actually feels touched. Mostly to hide just how happy she is that he remembered.

“You’re a remarkable personality,” Lincoln casually tells her, and before they can get lost in another witty, cheerful back and forth about how neat they think they are, Lynn has some self awareness and nips it in the bud early to focus on why she brought him here.

“We can fuzz it up later, bro. Let’s just get out to the field before it gets any hotter.”

Oh man, he really shouldn’t say what he’s thinking. He knows he shouldn’t. But he decides that, with how good things are going this early on, maybe he could afford to slip up. And who knows? There might actually be a payoff. “You are talking about the weather, right?”

Lynn’s eyes widen with surprise at his comment, and he just slyly smirks with a shrug as she stammers. “Uhm, uh… Obviously. Aheh…”

Yeah, maybe he could feel a little bad for that. But with the way she blushes, clearly trying to hide that she thought it was funny too, he doesn’t.

* * *

Luckily, the weather is a lovely seventy-something degrees as Lincoln takes his place at first base, wielding his bat like it’s his Excalibur. The only reason he’s perspiring is because he feels pretty nervous standing out in the open like this, almost like the sun is somehow an enormous spotlight meant to put him on display, exposed and vulnerable for the whole world. Lynn is the only other person within eyes’ reach for yards upon yards, but it doesn’t matter. Even if he happened to be alone in this spot, he’d feel this way.

And while he has a level of trust and comfort with his older sister that he doesn’t have with many others, not even some of his other siblings, it still feels weird. He should be more confident, less weak. But she offers him nothing but positive reinforcement and encouragement with her smiles and thumbs ups, and it makes it a little easier to swallow the fact that, he just hasn’t been taught how to do this before. There’s no shame in it. He’s only eleven. And at least he has someone like her willing to be here for him and show him the way.

Like Clark Kent, he takes deep breaths in an attempt to make his world a little smaller, focusing on the world around him. The faint sound of music plays over a PA system just outside of the cages, just audible enough for him to make out some of the lyrics.

_*However big, however small, let me be part of it all. Share your dreams with me… We may be right, we may be wrong, but I wanna bring you along to the world I see…*_

He takes a big gulp as he then looks to Lynn, and he can’t help but let a little half smile cock his lips upon hearing that.

His reverie is intervened by the sound of her calling out to him from the center of the field. “Alright, Lincoln. Are ya ready to get started?!”

He bucks up, putting on his best game face as he straightens up his gait. “I was born ready!”

“That’s the spirit!” Lynn laughs before sizing up her trajectory. Truth be told, if this were anyone else, she wouldn’t really throw caution to the wind. Heck, even the kids she babysits aren’t in the same category of caution with Lincoln right now. It’s not because he’s weak or anything, heck no! He’s got bonafide Loud DNA coursing through his veins!

But she knows she can be rough sometimes. Hard to handle, even. So she wants to keep her aggression in check to be completely, one hundred and two percent sure that her favorite brother has a good time today. She wants to be able to do this again! She wants him to get good enough that she doesn’t have to hold anything back!

So slow and steady, she visualizes the pitch in her mind over and over again until she’s sure she can’t mess up. It’s only when she’s absolutely sure that she won’t that she presses any further. “Alright, big guy. I’m gonna go ahead and pitch the ball. You think you can hit it? Be honest!”

Okay, so maybe he’s a _little_ unsure. Nerves are kind of getting the better of him at the moment. But he doesn’t want Lynn to have to stop every two seconds to make sure he’ll be able to hang with her. He wants to impress her, and well, he decides to take a chance and just roll with it like this is a game of DnD and luck can be on his side. “Yeah, yeah! I’m sure I can!” he tells her, feigning confidence in a way only a boy called the master of convincing can do.

With his assurance, Lynn decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Alright, here I come!”

With that, she tosses the ball with finesse that would make Ricky Vaughn stop in awe. She’s got celerity, poise, perfection with her technique, and she’s feeling pretty good that her brother will be able to hit the ball and maybe even soar it a decent amount of yards across the field. It makes her smile from ear to ear as the ball gets closer and closer to him, and he sticks his tongue out as he prepares to swing batta batta swing.

Aaaaaaaaand it’s a total fail. Epic fail. He swings the bat like he’s flippin’ Crash Bandicoot, going in a complete 360 circle and _not_ connecting bat to ball. It doesn’t help his pride any that he falls to his butt either.

Lynn cringes seeing the display, and then she worriedly drops her mitt to rush over and check on him. “Yo, Linc! Are you okay?!” she pleas as she makes it over, taking a knee beside him.

The cartoony birds whirl around his head until he shakes them off, and then he meets Lynn’s golden brown eyes. He can see the worry in them, and he realizes he’s messed up. And while he knows deep down she can’t possibly be upset with him, it bums him out to know he let her down. He doesn’t want her pity, he wants her adulation…

He wears that well as he hangs his head low, frowning. Lynn reads it plain as day, and rather than get right to criticizing his technique like he would with Margo or Paula maybe, she just offers him her hand to help him up. “Come on, let’s try again,” she simply says, donning a warm smile.

Part of him wants to stubbornly swat her hand away and tell her that he doesn’t need any help. Part of him is that frustrated. But… dang it… He can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes. He can’t be a jerk to her like that, even if he thinks it might make him look cooler and less vulnerable. He knows that she won’t think any less of him, so the heck with it. He smiles too as he takes her hand and lets her help himself. “Thanks.”

Without realizing her own strength, she dang near pulls his arm out of socket as she yanks him up off the ground. “Woah!” he moans as he makes it to his feet, only momentarily struggling to keep balance.

“Whoops, my B,” Lynn apologizes, anxiously biting her lip.

Lincoln just dusts himself off, fixing his posture nice and straight. “I can do this all day,” he tells her with a little smirk, and she just returns the gesture with good tidings of her own.

“Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you here, dude. That swing was-”

“It wasn’t very good, was it?” he asks.

“Oh gosh, it was awful. I’ve seen Fangs bat better than that,” she bluntly states before getting her coaching confidence back to her. “But hey! You’re just getting started! Don’t get discouraged!” she reminds him before picking his bat back off the ground and taking her place closer to him.

He feels himself getting some goosebumps as she wraps herself around him from behind, placing her foot between his feet to start kicking them into better positions. “Here, first of all, you’re standing weird. Just relax.” She suddenly stops for a moment after saying that, looking at him kind of funny before adding, “You smell nice. New shampoo?”

“Wild berry. I wasn’t sure I’d like it but-”

“I like it!” Lynn shamelessly intejects, dipping her head just a bit as another warm smile comes over her.

He can’t say anything else to that. It was just the perfect response, and he doesn’t want to spoil it. So, he just keeps quiet as she starts maneuvering her hands around his.

“Okay, now as for your batting stance. Again, you need to just relax, and try holding it like this,” she instructs as she fixes him into place like he’s a stack of Lincoln Logs. He feels only slightly unnatural, but hey, Lynn knows what she’s doing.

_And she said he smells nice!_

With her brother in a better place than before, Lynn gets laissez faire again as she considerately backs away. “Okay! We’re ready to try again!” she touts before jogging back over to centerfield to with a recovered mitt and ball.

Both Loud siblings take their own deep breaths, ready to make another attempt at capitalizing on a fantastic sunny day. For Lynn, it’s the same process as before. Basic geometry and things that like, architects think about. For her, it’s just a sixth sense, like knowing her own arcanum for magic. She’s always ready to make a play.

For Lincoln though, there’s still some of that lingering doubt. It was one thing to mess up once, but what if there’s something wrong with him? What if he just isn’t meant to do these things like Lynn and other guys can? “Come on, Lincoln. Focus!” he tells himself in an attempt to steer clear of those troubled waters. He’s here to have fun with Lynn, to make the most out of their Us Day. So, he hopes for the best as he awaits her beck and call, trying to trick himself into believing that their isn’t a chance in heck he’ll miss the next pitch.

“Alright, take two?!” she calls out.

“Take two!” he parrots.

With nothing left to brace for, Lincoln eyes the way she starts motioning her shoulders, then her arms, then her hands. There’s much more focus, much more weight on himself to make this work. It just has to!

Finally, she tosses the ball again. It sure as heck isn’t slow, but for a window of time, Lincoln feels almost more ready and able than he has in his eleven year life to be an ultimate opportunist. All it’s going to take is one proper swing of his bat, one rightfully executed swing to hit this silly little ball and go home proud of his ability.

It comes closer, and closer, and closer… and he summons all of the might in his muscles to swing that bat with passionate intent.

Unfortunately, passionate intent isn’t enough. But at least he doesn’t fall on his butt after missing this time.

And the next time. And the next time. And the time after that. And several tries later…

By the time Lynn has lost count of just how many times she’s watched Lincoln drop his bat, run after the ball, pick it back up, toss it back to her, and pick the bat up again, she can’t help but wear a rigid frown. Lincoln gets angrier and angrier with every pitch of his own, slower and more sluggish with every run after the stupid white ball. It breaks her heart to see him getting this way, but she isn’t quite sure what to do. He persistently keeps trying, but unfairly keeps failing.

Until finally, he decides he’s had enough.

“Dang it!” he shouts, throwing the bat hard on the ground. It actually startles Lynn a bit to see his outburst, and she feels her heart pounding a little harder in her chest as she watches his further descent. It doesn’t pound as hard as Lincoln’s though as he struggles to keep his arms from shivering with rage, to keep his eyes from welling with tears.

“Lincoln…” Lynn quietly begins, but before she can even begin to walk closer to the fire, he starts tantruming again.

“Why?! Why can’t I just hit the stupid ball?! Clyde can do it! Dad can do it! You can do it! Why can’t I do it?!”

“Lincoln…” Lynn repeats with more aching in her voice as she cautiously steps forward.

It’s like he doesn’t even notice her though as he just keeps cursing. “I just want to be able to play stupid baseball with you! This is supposed to be an awesome day, and I’m ruining your surprise!” he cries as he rubs the bridge of his nose, trying so hard not to let his sister see him tearing up.

She’s heard enough though. She can’t just stand and say nothing as he tears himself down in a way that is far from warranted. She’s never been the most confident in her own tactfulness, heck, that’s something she secretly admires her brother a lot for. But she’d rather risk making a butt out of herself or even saying something to make things worse than idling by to do nothing.

“Lincoln, listen to me!” she asserts, her heart heavy as she throws caution to the wind to get even closer to him. Her voice carried with such vigor is enough to get him to shift his focus from his frustration to her concern, and he pays undivided attention to her as she lets him know how this has all made her feel. “Bro, it’s not that important. I know what you’re trying to get at, trust me, I do,” she begins, trying not to let her voice get too shaky. “But no one thinks any less of you for not being super big into sports. There’s so many other awesome things about you!”

While he knows she means well with her main point, he still can’t help but feel like she needs to be wrong about his hubris. “That’s not the point! It’s important to me!”

“I know it is! But-”

“You don’t understand, Lynn. People know you’re strong. They know you’re good at pretty much everything you do. I don’t have that,” Lincoln confesses, unable to keep a single tear from falling down his pink, freckled cheek. “I’m supposed to be better than this. I’m your only brother. I should be able to keep up with you no matter what you do…”

All of the air is sucked out of her with his words. Tattering and tearing, they swell in her heart as she wishes her brain could do a better job working through the endorphins of her nerves to come up with better things to say. “I’m- I’m sorry,” she tells him, her struggle becoming more apparent. It takes her time to even realize she’s choking up, and of all the things she can recover with, she actually laughs a little over her shortcomings. “Look at me, proving you wrong with just how stupid I am with this stuff…”

“You’re not stupid,” Lincoln simply says, the remorse in his voice vehemant. He’s able to put aside just how angry he is with himself to let her know she comes first, to let her know that no matter how hard or down on himself he can be, her pain will always be on a higher pedestal. It makes it easy for them to fall into a moment of palpable silence, to really think over how they want to further approach their shared dilemma.

It’s Lynn to take initiative first, feeling her adrenaline and her heart get the best of her as she stops overthinking to just really say how she feels. “You know why I out everything I have into my sports? Because it’s what I’m good at. It’s one of the only things I’m good at…” she admits. “I’m not the best at talking about my feelings with people like you are. Or being the best sibling, friend, whatever. I don’t make the best grades, I don’t do as good a job as other girls making myself, you know… pretty…”

“You couldn’t be anymore wrong about that,” Lincoln interrupts, but before he can get his own fire going, she cuts him off.

“Let me finish, Lincoln. Please,” she insists. She takes another deep breath, really pushing herself to be something more than the things she’s told herself she can’t be. “But you know what? Because of you, because of _you,_ Lincoln, I know I can be better. Anything I tell myself isn’t possible, I can work a little harder to overcome. You’re like Callum when he went out of his way to learn magic, or Aang when he- uhm, stopped the Fire Nation. Or Percy Jackson. Harry Potter!”

“I’m a dork, I get it,” Lincoln comments, failing to keep a little smile to himself.

“Yes, but Dragon Prince is dope.”

“At least you watched that one.”

Getting serious again, Lynn wears another warm smile as she gets within hands’ reach of Lincoln, looking him in the eyes as she lays the rest of it on the line for him. “The point is, you’re my flippin’ Hero, dude! Anytime I feel bad, I think of how awesome you are! And I know I can’t be the only one,” she says, resting a supporting hand on his shoulder. For a moment, they just share this loving mutual gaze, reaching a new understanding and trust with all the words she’s said. And while it’s a lot for Lincoln to take in, and he finds himself within a new inner struggle all too similar to hers to compose a decent response, she makes it easy with how she follows up. “You’re getting taller, bro,” she remarks like she’s impressed, patting him on the shoulder.

He decides _now_ is an alright time to swat her hand away, but carefully. “Taller than you,” he simply says, matching her warm smile with one of his own. “Thanks Lynn.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’re not done here,” she tells him, picking the bat back up to return it to him. The smile wanes from her face as she looks him in the eyes again, but the same passion as before does not. “Try one more time. And after that, hit or miss, we can go get some ice cream.”

He considers his options as he nods, studying the bat that could either become his greatest adversary or his most trusted companion. It doesn’t take him long to come to a conclusion though. “Alright, one more time. But you’re paying for the ice cream,” he says as he takes the bat.

“Stinks for you. I didn’t bring any money,” she says as she haughtily makes her way back to centerfield.

* * *

“YES!” Lincoln cheers as he drops the bat, watching as the ball soars higher and higher into the air, disbelief freezing him in his place. One more try is all it took, but dang… He really hit hard. That much is made evident as the ball becomes smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing from sight as if the outer walls of the batting field are part of Mr. Grouse’s yard. It deflates his feeling of victory a little, and he looks to Lynn to be sure to apologize. “Uh, sorry about your ball.”

“The heck with the ball! You did it!” she yelps as she hurries over. The boy can’t help but flinch like she’s coming over to tackle him, but rather than be speared to the ground, he finds himself being squeezed in a big ol’ hug. Part of him is really taken back, so that’s one thing that makes him apprehensive. But he also isn’t sure if hugging her back would be just a little too much. But hearing the way she “Squee’s” like a burning tea pot, he decides that she’s not going to mind, and he wraps his arms around her too. “I’m so proud of you, Stinkoln!” she hollers as she eases up a bit, disengaging from the hug to keep her hands steady on his elbows. “Erm, Lincoln. Sorry,” she nervously corrects.

He can’t believe how fortunate he is. This Saturday really has been a great day, all things considered. He hit an actual homerun just like all of his fantasies, and after all the anguish he had to go through, he feels one hundred and two percent sure he could do it again if he needed to.

But truthfully, it wouldn’t mean anything at all without Lynn to share it with. Her eyes are so warm and cuddly the way they look back at him with pride and love, and her hands on his elbows feel so smooth, so reassuring. They haven’t always gotten along. Heck, she’s put him in more camel clutches than just about anyone else.

But here and now, he can see that the good stuff far outweighs the bad. He can see that she didn’t want this just for the sake of playing a game she could actually just go play with any of her other friends. That matters as much as the fact he’s _seriously_ like, a half an inch taller. What really matters is that they got to have an unforgettable Us Day, and there will be many more to come.

It’s all perfectly imperfect, except for one thing. She has this… one stray hair that dangles over her eye. It’s a very important and lovely hair on her very important and very lovely head, but it’s still in the way of the amazing brown iris, one of his two favorites.

“No… I like Stinkcoln,” he tells her as he moves that stray hair out of her face.

She wishes she could resist that charming smile, or the way it makes her heart pound so fast and hard in her chest. But she can’t. It makes her melt like butter, and all she wants to do, more than anything in the world… is find a way to wipe it off his face. Lynn Loud Jr. style.

“You better quit looking at me like that, or there’s gonna be trouble,” she tells him, her smile as bubbly as ever.

And he wishes he could resist hers too. But he can’t. Honestly, he doesn’t want to that bad. He just hopes she doesn’t mind too much how he influences her.

“Trouble’s not so bad if you’ve got someone to be in trouble with.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s one of her eleven sisters. He loves her so much, and he wants to make that perfectly clear.

They close their eyes, embracing the fact that it’s just the two of them here and no one else. No one ever has to know, no one has any right to judge. It can be their little secret, and they can cherish it forever. Just like their Happy Us Day.

Their love is symbolized with a kiss, one that burns slow as they keep their lips pressed together for moments that seem to stand out from the rest of time. Nothing else matters now. Lynn loves Lincoln, and Lincoln loves her.

It can’t last forever though, and they both know that. Their hearts’ synchronization allows them to peruse the very right moment to break the kiss, to return their opened eyes to each other’s.

And they smile.

“I love you, Lincoln. I love you so much,” his beloved sister tells him, resting her hands on his broad shoulders, ready to fall any deeper in love.

He’s more than happy to catch and hold her, to never let her go, and he wants to make that ever more obvious with his words as well as his actions. “I love you too, Lynn.”

They can’t stay forever. They know that. Eventually, they have to disengage, they have get walking outside these walls, back into the sea of people who can all see them. They can’t ever know that their love is something beyond being a brother and sister, they can’t ever be open with this thing they know deep down they shouldn’t have to be ashamed of.

That’s okay though. They can do whatever they need to do to get by as long as they have each other. Maybe they can’t kiss or hold hands at the dinner table, maybe they can’t be like other boyfriends and girlfriends who are allowed to be queen bees and kings of their schools and neighborhoods. But that’s fine. It’s alright.

Because at home, when no one else is around, when it’s just the two of them, they can be what they want to be.

And every day can be Us Day.

THE END.


End file.
